Chapter 8
The untold melody ceased at some point, and when Li He regained consciousness, the fire in the tent had naturally died out. He stood up and stretched his body, stiff and numb from prolonged inactivity. The wound on his shoulder seemed to be itching, indicating it was nearing complete healing. With this thought in mind, he left the tent to find a brighter spot to re-dress himself.
The wind that had been blowing all night finally died down. The crescent moon had just reached the top of the mountain when morning light leaked out from the clouds on the other side. He walked past the soldiers on duty and stayed under a dead tree to crush herbs for himself. The herbs wrapped in sackcloth had dried and curled up at the edges, but the remaining herbs were not enough. Li He thought about it, wrapped the herbs tightly in sackcloth and stuffed them back into his arms, preparing to change them every two days. He wanted to save some for future use, as he remembered the days when he, his uncle and his youngest son dried the herbs together. Even if it was just a souvenir, he still wanted to keep them for a few more days.
He put on his armor and tightened the rope around his injured arm. The people in the tent gradually woke up. This morning was the first time they hadn't heard a rooster crow since they had been traveling east. They would continue east today. If they didn't encounter any more barbarians, they could turn back and head for Yumen. Li He calculated the days. After four or five days, he thought carefully and realized he didn't know if the route to Yumen would pass through the old man's village. He also didn't know if the old man and the youngest child would be in good health now that winter had arrived.
He finished his morning drink and followed the group, supporting Jiang Er as they walked. The surrounding wilderness remained silent, the birdsong much quieter, and there were few dead bodies lying on the roadside. Only the twisted, withered grass blocked their path. Swords and knives were used to cut through the waist-high weeds.
They passed through a day remarkably similar to the previous day, and the lingering tranquility faded. Their yearning for victory gradually subsided, and they pitched their tents for the night, beginning their journey to Yumen the next day. Burning their firewood, they headed for Yumen, perhaps passing by the place they had come from, or perhaps just passing by. They began to hesitate, wondering if their remaining food would be enough to last them through the winter, whether their wives and children would be harmed, and whether they would be able to return home in the spring.
It was hard to say for sure, so they all fell silent. Then, as if to comfort themselves, they said they could just head for the city. There were no Hu people along the way, and reaching Yumen Pass would only take a few days, just enough time to rest and recuperate. Li He looked at the ground, where gravel and rubble were spread. He reached out and wiped the dirt off.
The feeling of peace was fleeting, and he felt the same way. However, silence had always been his norm, so he didn't find it unbearable. The wound on his shoulder should heal better today. He lifted his other hand and removed the arm armor. They began to chat about random things, some of them making bets on when the first snow would fall and whether there would be a good harvest next year. Li He felt a little removed from these things. He lay down, still able to hear the gurgling sound of the river. He knew there must be fish there.
Nights like these are usually difficult to sleep in, filled with a riot of dreams. Li He's dream contained nothing but a vast, enormous sand pit. He couldn't climb out, unable to escape, only to keep climbing upwards. When he got tired, he'd start over. He vaguely recognized what this sand pit was, but he remained trapped in the dream, repeating it over and over again until dawn.
This repeated itself for two days before they returned to their original location, not far from where they had won the battle. The exposed corpses gradually turned to jagged bones. The birds and beasts, well fed, lingered around, but were eventually driven away. The tent had to be set up on a flatter part of the hillside, and Li He entered. Jiang Er's leg injury was completely healed, and they gathered to build a fire. The wind had been growing stronger recently, and thick clouds had obscured the sun. Tonight seemed no different.
Li He finished his drink and lay in the familiar corner of the tent. Jiang Er came over and lowered his voice to thank him again for the herbs. "Thanks to your herbs, I was able to recover so quickly. How is your shoulder injury? Did you see a military doctor later?" Li He shook his head. "It's better now, brother. You're welcome, brother Jiang."
"I still have to thank you. Once we get to Yumen, we'll have time to teach my little brother how to write. Don't forget to remind me then." Li He seemed to have been reminded of the matter of learning to read. During this period, he had actually forgotten to miss He, and just repeated everything in the sand pit. He thought that perhaps he was too tired from traveling recently. He began to hope for a good sleep tonight. There were more dead branches here, and the flames were burning brightly. He took off his armor and lay down, closing his eyes in the warm tent.
Li He still dreamed of that sand pit, the one that seemed to be growing larger and larger. He seemed overly tired in his dream today, so he rested at the bottom for a long, long time before attempting to climb out again. He had no idea where this sand pit had come from, and his only thought while inside was to climb out, until he could finally escape. Perhaps then he would no longer be trapped in this dream.
It wasn't until swords pierced the tents and shouts woke them. The flames, caught in the trampling, ripped through the curtains. Jiang Er pushed Li He awake, and he finally awoke from his dream of a sand pit. He gripped his sword hilt, tightened his armor, and fled through the thick smoke. The tents were consumed by the blazing flames. The belated horn blew once, intermittently, leaving only the sound of swords piercing flesh and the fierce, perhaps insulting, voices of the barbarians.
Li He parried the scimitars that slashed from the side. Their cries grew fragmented, and the horn blasts faded. The Hu cavalry also charged into their midst, wantonly trampling over the bodies lying on the ground. Tonight's clouds completely obscured the gradually waxing moon. Distant flames burned those who hadn't escaped in time, and the cries and shouts grew noisy and clamorous.
He realized then that this was a nighttime attack by the Hu people. He didn't have time to think about where the Hu people came from or the disparity in numbers. He simply gripped his sword with both hands to defend against the incoming swordsmen, seizing the opportunity to swing at the Hu people nearby. He seemed to be back in the sand pit, climbing up from the bottom and sliding down the wall.
Swords and knives pierced the firelight, and a long, drawn-out horn blast echoed from afar. The long, drawn-out note was far less resonant than before, and the clatter of horses' hooves gradually faded away. This was the signal for flight, the one Li He had heard most often in that year. Screams echoed from the chaotic crowd, and they were left behind, the wounded soldiers unable to move, leaving the horses' hooves to trample over them.
Li He dodged the scimitars that were aimed at his waist, and the armor on his back also blocked the swords that were slashing at him. He retreated backwards, and their voices became less and less. Fresh blood flowed all over the ground, and his cries of pain were always suddenly cut off by the finishing blows. He gradually became exhausted. There were too many people around him, and his eyes began to blur. It seemed that he could not tell the difference between the Hu people and his own people at all. He seemed to be surrounded here, blocking the knives that were cut at him again and again, and swinging his long sword again and again, just like this, trapped here. The number of people around him did not decrease at all, but the only thing that could support him was his increasingly painful shoulders.
"Little brother, take this," it seemed to be Jiang Er's voice. He loosened his grip and took the scimitar Jiang Er handed him. "Besides, the Hu people's swords are easy to use. They hit people accurately with every strike." Li He tightened his grip on the sword and followed Jiang Er out of the chaotic crowd. Since he couldn't use the scimitar with both hands, he began to adapt to the lighter scimitar and chopped at the waist and abdomen of the unarmored Hu people.
Blood splashed on his face, and the fire gradually died out. He rushed out with a small group of people led by Jiang Er. They could only run forward, and the sound of chopping and killing gradually faded behind them. Li He still held the scimitar tightly, and the pain in his shoulder did not decrease at all. He thought that the wound might have burst open. The dark clouds pressed lower, and sporadic moisture fell. They ran forward, crossed the hill and headed west. In the silence, there was only the rising and falling heavy breathing, and the ground began to become muddy. Li He realized that it was starting to rain. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, soaking them and covering their footsteps. This was considered to have escaped the pursuers.
They relaxed their tension and sat down among the dry grass, the heavy rain washing away the fresh blood from their armor. A long sigh erupted, followed by a curse on the barbarians who had attacked them at night and a cry of pain from those who had examined their wounds. Li He still hadn't loosened his grip on his wrist; his soaked linen clothes clung to the wound, and he could feel the blood pouring from it.
Jiang Er said, "Brothers, help each other. Those who can move should look around to see if there is a place to shelter from the rain. If you get soaked in this cold weather, you will definitely die." After the rustling sound, two or three people went out to look for a place to shelter from the rain. Li He walked over. He remembered that Jiang Er had the most blood dripping from his body along the way.
"Brother Jiang, where are you hurt?" He reached out and helped Jiang Er up, heading up the mountain. From the days he'd followed the little boy collecting herbs, he'd learned that the higher you went, the easier it was to find shelter from the rain. "You took two stab wounds to the waist. The barbarians didn't cut them shallowly. Are you okay, little brother?"
"It's just the shoulder wound that's more serious. Brother Jiang arrived just in time. The rest are minor injuries." Li He helped Jiang Er hide under a boulder, where there was just enough space for two or three people. The biting wind blew through the rain-soaked linen clothes. He removed his armor and pulled the cloth away from the shoulder wound. The few herbs left were probably just enough for him and Jiang Er to use once more.
The winter rain was still pouring down, and the night was so dark that one could not see one's hand in front of one's face. They sat there in silence, waiting for the dawn to come, to endure this long night.
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